Curvature
by GleefulMusing
Summary: There was something about Rachel's hips that Quinn can't seem to shake...Faberry...FutureFic


**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this story, they belong to Ryan Murphy. There be adult situations ahead so if you're underage, turn right around and go read something else.

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A/N: Hi, so this is my first ever Glee story. I'm very involved in another fandom (kind of obscure, nobody would probably recognize me here), but I've not yet tackled anything Glee-related, so hopefully this turned out alright. This takes place in the future and there's really not a lot of plot to it I guess. I just hope you enjoy and if you want to leave a review and let me know how this Glee experiment went, I'd be grateful. I'm a big girl so be as brutal as you want to be. :)

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There was something so womanly about the line of Rachel's hip, something Quinn couldn't keep her eyes off of, something that Quinn had to measure and rotate with her mind, calculating, memorizing. Then her hand would move, lighting the way for her pencil to sketch that smooth line down the page, the scratch on the paper giving life to a sketch. She always started with that hip, in her drawings, in their bedroom, it was always her hand and that hip, both drawing down, sometimes with pencil and sometimes with soft fingertips.

The first drawings, the crude ones still possibly on those bathroom walls back in Ohio, in a place they were confined and stifled, both of them simultaneously in the same way, were windows, secrets, even from Quinn herself. Too much time she'd spent on those, too much time for them just to be idiotic drawings of a jealous girl. There was too many moments picturing Rachel without clothes, drawings lips and wondering if they were puckered in just the right way. Drawings, however crude and base, were the precursor, not just to her true identity, the one she'd suppressed through boyfriends she didn't like and drunk nights with men who through her liquor-infused haze looked so tantalizingly feminine, but the drawings were the precursor to her professional calling, art. An artist, she was an artist and it was something to be proud of, even if Rachel was the only person who ever seemed truly proud of her. It was one of the reasons she loved the girl so much and why so many drawings, sketches, sculptures, and paintings took on that slight curve of Rachel's hip as their starting point.

It was always after the hip that she got distracted. That line was easy, the rest, not so much. It was hard to concentrate on paper and other mediums when the only medium she wanted to work with was flesh and skin and the little goosebumps that popped up over Rachel's skin when she got cold or turned on. They always appeared just about now because Rachel knew the look on Quinn's face. After 4 years together, they knew the little things, the looks, the smirks and smiles, the body language. Quinn's look right now was nearly predatory, but not in a scary way, in a way that reminded Rachel that she was Quinn's, that she would always be Quinn's and Rachel loved the look because it made her feel loved in a way she never had before. Finn had never been able to look at her that way and now that she looked back, she'd tried to sabotage that relationship because it never felt exactly right. Not like how she felt right now, with those goosebumps raising, one by one in succession under Quinn's heated gaze.

"Are you going to make me lie here all night?" Rachel said, resting her cheek on her palm, glancing over at the concentrated Quinn. Rachel's dark hair was falling over her arm and her smile quirked up in a flirtatious way. "It's hardly fair that I'm freezing in this entirely too cold apartment while you're sitting there fully clothed. Do you think that's fair, Quinny?"

Quinn licked her lips a little, Rachel only called her Quinny when she wanted something and Quinn could only guess what Rachel wanted now. It was slightly drafty in their apartment, but not drafty enough to make the turgid peaks Rachel was sporting at the current moment. Quinn had to lick her lips again as she pictured her mouth wrapped around one of them, laving it with her tongue as Rachel groaned. But no, art, art first. She had an upcoming show and she had to concentrate.

"Don't distract me," Quinn said, trying to sound gruff, but Quinn could never sound gruff to Rachel, cute and coy, perhaps, but never gruff.

"Are you stuck on my hip again?" Rachel asked coyly. She had been with Quinn long enough to know the looks and the smiles and the smirks and every other expression Quinn had. She also knew that Quinn had some strange fascination with her hip, always getting stuck on that first line. It usually took her a few minutes to start really sketching and while she was concentrating, she would get the cutest look on her face, a look that would make Rachel wet and she was starting to feel that old, familiar slickness pooling in between her thighs.

"I'm not stuck," Quinn said, "I'm just thinking about where I want to go with this particular piece.

Rachel started at her knee, then brushed her finger up her leg, "You can start here," she said, then, pressed her finger lightly to her womanly folds, "then you can go here," her finger twirled there for a second, then passed her pubic bone, then swirled around her navel and to her breast, "then these," and finally, she was circling her face, "then up here, Quinny, how does that sound?"

Quinn couldn't concentrate because her eyes were focused so tightly on Rachel's pussy that she couldn't even tell you what Rachel's face looked like at the moment. The slightly dimmed lights of their apartment didn't hide the shine spreading across Rachel's inner thighs. Rachel, recognizing exactly what Quinn was focused on spread her legs a little bit. The stickiness made it slightly more difficult to part them and Rachel teased a finger against her opening, but only tease before she went back to her coy expression.

"Quinny, I've got an early morning tomorrow. I've got rehearsals at seven and I just cannot be late. It wouldn't look good for the star to be late, we have to set the precedent for the rest of the cast and how would it look if _I_, the star, is late?"

Quinn gently smiled at her partner's rambling. Even now, Rachel was still Rachel, a little high strung and feeling like the influence on everyone she ever met. Broadway was more demanding than was New Directions and so Rachel demanded perfection of herself. It didn't help that Rachel was starting to become more recognizable among the Broadway set and had been fielding offers from television. It only made Rachel more determined and more precise and more…well, she was still Rachel so anal had to be included on that list, even if Quinn now found it more endearing than annoying. Her cute, little girlfriend with her slightly OCD tendencies.

"Could you say _the star_ enough times in that rant, Rach?" Quinn said, abandoning any thoughts of her drawing.

"Well I am," Rachel said indignantly, "_my_ name is on the marquee, no matter what that Marla Andrews thinks about it."

Marla was Rachel's costar and enemy of the week. A lot of people were enemies in Rachel's world. Quinn liked to think of herself as Rachel's most trusted ally. "Yes, it is your name and I'm very proud of you," she said, almost like she was talking to a child, but Rachel was hardly a child and her body proved that quite exquisitely.

"Thanks," Rachel said brightly, soaking up compliments like a sponge. She sighed and looked again at Quinn, "So can we get on with this?"

"I'm thinking!" Quinn protested playfully, tilting her head down and pretending to be the requisite artiste, holding up her thumb and acting like she was trying to gain perspective.

Rachel stood up from the chaise she was laying on and walked over, bending over slightly to take Quinn's thumb in her mouth, swirling it around. Quinn gulped a little and tried to choke out that Rachel shouldn't move while she was drawing her, but Rachel's tongue was so soft against her finger, sucking her expertly and brushing her teeth ever so slightly against the skin. She pulled away and then walked around Quinn's back, letting her hand trail against Quinn's shoulderblade. Then she leaned over Quinn's side and looked at the one line adorning the page.

Rachel looked adoringly at her girlfriend's inability to draw anything except for one line. She'd never expected to reconnect with Quinn of all people, but never underestimate the power of coincidence. Quinn had shown up at one of her off-off-off Broadway shows (though not as off as anything April Rhodes had been on). Quinn had been dragged there by friends and upon letting it slip that she'd known one of the actresses, her friends had begged her to introduce them. When Rachel had seen Quinn that first time after a couple of years, the repressed feelings she'd kept hidden through high school had rushed out and she'd impulsively asked Quinn if she wanted to go for a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee turned to a date, which turned to this…life they had together, improbable and incredible as it was.

"Very nice line," Rachel said with a smirk she had perfected over the years, one she had nearly been incapable of making in high school where drama seemed to press down on her all the time, making her decidedly dour sometimes. She was old enough now to respectfully call herself a drama queen in high school, but maturity had smoothed out those wrinkles, or at least she thought. Quinn would tease her every now and then when her face would get red from ranting, but then she would draw a hand down Rachel's cheek and kiss her into calm.

"Well, I would be drawing if you were still modeling over there," Quinn breathed out, gesturing towards the chaise.

"I want to be over here and nothing you can say will get me back over there," Rachel told her definitively, the little pitch in her voice rising at the end. "I like it over here much better."

"Over there," Quinn said again.

"I better get to bed," Rachel teased. "Early morning and all that."

Quinn turned her head slightly and kissed the side of Rachel's exposed breast. A light kiss, nothing more than her lips pressing against the soft, pliant skin that was dangling so wantonly next to her. Rachel turned slightly to her left and Quinn moved her mouth to take Rachel's nipple into her mouth, biting softly and sucking harder. She could hear Rachel moan above her and that only intensified her sucking as she dropped her sketchpad and pencil on the ground with an unheard clatter (Rachel's moans were intensifying) and she brought her right arm around Rachel's back, pulling her closer, nearly smothering herself with Rachel's breasts. Rachel had contemplated getting breast implants when she first started to gain recognition, wondering if she should fit in with the rest of the Hollywood she was craving to conquer, but Quinn loved her breasts, loved them the way they were and she bit lightly on Rachel's nipple, distending it and pulling away with a slight and girly growl to show her approval.

"God," Rachel said, pressing Quinn's face against her, now really nearly smothering her. Quinn grabbed Rachel by the hips and brought her down to straddle her lap. There was something so erotic and hot about Rachel naked on top of her clothed body. It made her heat pool to a certain part of her body as she bucked up slightly against Rachel, the contact making Rachel gasp as the rough texture of Quinn's pajama pants brushed against her womanhood.

Quinn pulled away from Rachel's right breast in order to get a taste of the left one, tweaking Rachel's right breast with her free hand. Quinn was usually the aggressor when they had sex; Rachel joked that it was the old head Cheerio in her, always wanting to be on top. Rachel had no problem with it. She loved playing the girliest girl in the world next to Quinn's forcefulness. It added a little extra element of whimsy and fun to their sex. That wasn't to say that Rachel didn't have her moments. Quinn could recall one time, Rachel had been passed over for a part she wanted and in her frustration, she'd pushed Quinn up against their kitchen counter, turned her around and ate her out from behind without so much as a batting of an eyelash.

Rachel started to buck against Quinn's hip, wanting so badly to get off, her wetness feeling like it was coming in torrents and she hadn't even really orgasmed yet. The feel of Quinn's pants on her pussy was tortuous as she could almost feel the flannel massaging her. Only with Quinn could she get off on breast play like this, only with Quinn could she find these rapturous moments when she ceased to be anything but a writhing mass of flesh and blood and sweat and heaven.

"No," Quinn said forcefully, pulling away and stopping Rachel's hips from bucking into oblivion.

"Quinny," Rachel whined.

"No," Quinn said, looking up at her girlfriend, who was so disheveled at this point, her long brown hair tousled and half in her face, her breath catching and heaving, causing her breasts to jut out ever so slightly, her nipples shining in the light from Quinn's saliva, her areolas dark and hungry with need.

"This is not cool," Rachel pouted, still trying to buck against Quinn, but Quinn was surprisingly strong and her fingers dug into Rachel's hips. "You can't just-"

"On the couch," Quinn said, gesturing towards the chaise that Rachel had just been on.

"If we're getting technical, that's not really a couch," Rachel, always needing the last word looked at Quinn's upturned eyebrow, "Okay, yeah, sorry, not ruining the mood here or anything."

She got up quickly and went to lay on the couch, her back propped up against the one side as Quinn stood up. Rachel could see two wet spots on Quinn's pants, one from her own ministrations and another that was right over Quinn's crotch. She wanted to grab the pants and lick them off, but Quinn was pulling them down, revealing her bikini cut underwear and then pulling her shirt off, leaving her in just those panties. Quinn turned around and bent over, slowly pulling down her underwear while revealing herself to Rachel. Rachel could see she was almost as wet as she herself was and started to press her finger to her clit, just pressing, just enough to make her moan softly.

Quinn turned around and saw what Rachel was doing, coming over and grabbing Rachel's hand and Rachel though she might get punished, but Quinn just took her fingers and sucked them clean. "Mmm," Quinn moaned around the fingers before releasing them. Then Quinn kneeled next to the chaise, grabbing Rachel's left leg and kissing up her hip. This delectable hip, so smooth and so perfectly Rachel. How a hip could define Rachel, she couldn't quite explain, but this hip was beautiful, perfection, a masterpiece if she ever saw one and every time she drew that line, she was trying to replicate it, but God had outdone himself with this one, had made it so perfect that there was no emulation, simply sad imitations that would never amount to anything.

Quinn reached Rachel's pelvic bone and then moved to her navel, swirling her tongue inside before she brought her face in between Rachel's legs. She'd seen this sight a million times now, but she never thought it any less amazing. Rachel was waxed down there, claiming it was part of the business, but Quinn knew that Rachel just liked it and she appreciated the unencumbered view. She licked up Rachel's slit, careful not to get near Rachel's clit. Rachel moaned and bucked again, wanting more of Quinn, wanting all of Quinn.

"How should I do it tonight?" Quinn wondered aloud, teasing Rachel by tapping her fingers against Rachel's pussy, only letting them in a fraction of an inch, something that made Rachel groan and want to grab Quinn and shove her face into her pussy and make her drown in Rachel's juices.

"Any way," Rachel croaked.

"But it should be the right way, something to pay you back for interrupting my drawing session. Should I just eat you out?" Quinn said, letting her fingernail brush against Rachel's insides, making Rachel cry out in a high-pitched squeal. "Should I…finger you?" One quick stroke inside, penetrating Rachel as she nearly lost it, grabbing at Quinn's hand before Quinn skillfully pulled away before Rachel could shove more of Quinn's fingers inside of her. "Should I get on top of you and ride you so we can both get off?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Rachel said, anything to get the stimulation she craved, needed. She was about to start fingering herself when Quinn, with barely a look, grabbed her wrist and shooed it way. "Please," Rachel said as Quinn now stroked Rachel's hip.

"Or should I grab the strap-on and fuck you until you're screaming?" Quinn said, stroking Rachel's hip a little harder.

"Don't care!" Rachel cried out. "Quinny!"

"I really just don't know," Quinn said, torturing her girlfriend. "Maybe I should just draw you like this."

"No!" Rachel gasped, her own imagination making her arch her back for release. "No!"

"I think I should. Who wouldn't want to see you like this, spread for me, ready and waiting, you're so turned on, Rach," Quinn said, running her finger up and down Rachel. "I can tell right now that you're so turned on. You're practically a faucet."

Rachel was about to beg now, actually beg when Quinn suddenly stood up and came over and started to straddle her. Rachel immediately wrapped her legs around Quinn's waist and was writhing against her like she was on fire and needed to be put out. Quinn stared down at Rachel, undulating her hips as they found a rhythm that suited them, melding against each other as Quinn leaned down and kissed Rachel. Rachel's mouth opened and their tongues slide against each other, their mouths warm and inviting the other inside. Their hips were moving in time now, their clits rubbing against one another and they both knew they wouldn't last nearly as long as they wanted.

It was only a few moments before their moans were getting louder and more fervent and Quinn reached a finger down to start flicking and grabbing at Rachel's clit, while Rachel shoved a couple of fingers into Quinn, rubbing and manipulating the spots that were well worn by Rachel's fingers. They were reduced to unladylike grunts and moans as Quinn buried her face into Rachel's neck, licking and kissing as their hips continued to grind and their fingers continued to move, faster and faster until…

"Rachel," Quinn moaned, her husky voice lowering as Rachel felt a gush of warm liquid running over her hand, making it easier to get in deeper, making Quinn have another orgasm and then another smaller one as she stiffened over Rachel.

This didn't stop Quinn from suddenly and forcibly putting three fingers into Rachel's tight channel, immediately causing Rachel to scream, almost melodically because leave it to Rachel to rehearse during _this_, and arch her back so hard that she took Quinn up with her. When she fell back, her hands slipped from Quinn and dropped nearly to the ground as they both relaxed against one another. Quinn brought her hand up and brushed her wet fingers against Rachel's lips and Rachel sucked her own cum from them, then shared Quinn's cum with her.

"You have beautiful hips," Quinn said sleepily, running her still cum-laden fingers up and down Rachel's hips. "I can't master them."

"Sure you can, if I can hit that high C, you can get my _hips_ right," Rachel said. "But if you can't, you know what they say, right?"

"What do they say?" Quinn asked.

"Practice makes perfect."


End file.
